Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Grenada and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Jawbox to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Erykah Badu,
Intrusion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Skatalites,
Masters at Work,
Joe Smooth,
Laurel Aitken,
Harry Pussy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joy Division,
T. Rex,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Newcleus,
Derrick May,
Pere Ubu,
Marmalade,
The Golliwogs,
La Düsseldorf,
June Days,
Lalann,
Pantaleimon,
Reuben Wilson,
Circle Jerks,
Spoonie Gee,
Sound Behaviour,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Henry Cow,
Cheater Slicks,
the Slits,
The Seeds,
Black Flag,
kango's stein massive,
Godley & Creme,
a-ha,
F. McDonald,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Toasters,
Hashim,
Fela Kuti,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Y Pants,
John Foxx,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Remains,
Mo-Dettes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scientists,
Kayak,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fall,
Andrew Hill,
The Names,
Thee Headcoats,
Banda Bassotti,
the Normal,
Minutemen,
Zapp,
Underground Resistance,
The Buckinghams,
Index,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.